Learning To Live Again
by bsbvinphan
Summary: The story of Lissette O'Brien, who suddenly encounters the devastating loss of her family, finds her only solace in a French convent. What a strange place to fall in love.
1. Default Chapter

That night, the sky was gorgeous, a beautiful shade of azure pleasure. The dark color of the young woman's hair played softly against the magnificent backdrop. She stared intently at the focus point her loving brother had given her as he painted her portrait. He'd told her he needed a keepsake for his new home. The two had always been close, only separated in age by a few years. They were the best of friends, and she loved him dearly, but his time was nearing. He was in the process of being married. She knew a similar fate would befall upon her, but she forced the thoughts from her mind, concentrating instead on the night sky, the orchard of cherry trees and the rolling green hills.  
  
"Lissette?" he asked, waving his hand in front of her face, "Lissette? Are you there? Hello?" he asked with his perfect French.  
  
"Oh, excuse me," she replied, snapping back to reality. She gazed adoringly at her brother and smiled.  
  
"Finished," he told her. She beamed and jumped up, running to his easel. Her eyes lit up like the stars in the cool night air when she saw his work.  
  
"Pierre! It's marvelous! I love it!" she exclaimed, throwing herself upon her older brother and knocking him over in the process. They laughed together and smiled as they wrestled with each other in the soft, springy grass. The twilight moon cast just enough glare over the scene for Lissette and Pierre's stepmother to see them and snarl with contempt.  
  
"Hello mother, how are you this evening?" Lissette asked sweetly, smiling with a broad expression as she and her brother entered their large villa. Their stepmother nodded and proceeded to ignore the damp pair.   
  
Lissette smiled and excused herself to take a bath, and think about what she would do once her brother was off and married. She must've been soaking for a long while, because she'd fallen asleep. When she awoke, her heart seemed to have stopped while she gasped for breath. She muttered a few curses, and as she climbed out of the tub, she could hear bickering coming from all the way downstairs. She couldn't really tell what was going on, but she could hear her brother and father quarreling over something important.  
  
----  
  
The horror! Lissette could deal with Pierre being sent off to be married, but this? The strain was just too much for her to bear! When her brother scrambled up the stairs, pushed past her and ran into his bedroom, she knew something foul was afoot. The only information she was able to obtain was from her father, whom she also loved dearly. All he told her was that Pierre would be leaving for a long while. Stunned, she walked back to her room and sulked in an uncomfortable melancholy. Where could he be going? Why is he leaving? Surely it's not because of the marriage; it wasn't scheduled for another whole month!  
  
"Pierre!" she called as the sibling she loved so much rushed past her doorway. He stopped briefly to glace inside the door, but continued on his way without saying a word.  
  
"Pierre!" she screamed, running to the door. She chased after him, nearly falling down the steep stairs in the process. He stood facing the foyer door, his heart breaking. He'd not asked to be shipped out, but his number was up. Lissette was not ready to give up her only brother so easily and grabbed his shoulder when she reached him, spinning the young man's frame to face her.  
  
"Where are you going?" she asked, emotion thickening her weak French vocabulary. Tears now fell freely from her eyes, and she could see Pierre was trying his hardest to remain composed.  
  
"I love you, Lissette, never forget that. I must leave for while, but I promise that I will come home soon," was his tear-choked reply. She nodded with a grim understanding and gave her brother a hug, willing him to stay with all her might.  
  
"I love you," Pierre repeated, kissing the pile of hair on top of his sister's head. Reluctantly, she pulled away and nodded again, replying with his same sentiment. She watched silently as the brother she loved was practically wrenched from her grip and taken away forever.  



	2. Continued

Many things had changed since Pierre's departure. Her father and stepmother had both been killed in an automobile accident, and both wills had left Pierre as sole executioner, leaving her with nothing until he was to return. Penniless, Lissette was forced to move into a local convent when she found that she could not run the whole house by herself. She soon ran out of food, and the little money in her account was nowhere near enough for utility bills.  
  
"Hello young ma'am," a young, pretty nun greeted, introducing herself as Marion. Lissette smiled and nodded. She was led to a small room with rows of double-story beds, oh how she longed to just lie down!  
  
"Do you speak English?" the nun called Sister Marion asked. Lissette nodded 'yes' and continued fantasizing about how delicious one of those beds would feel under her tired body.  
  
"Good," she said simply. The two continued the tour and soon it was time for bed. Lissette was so overwhelmed by the place that she lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering about Pierre.  
  
The morning came all too quickly for Lissette, who had just drifted off to sleep when the sun was rising. "Girls! Time to wake up!" Sister Marion announced, throwing open the large curtains. Sunlight streamed into the room from all angles, blinding some of the girls, driving others back under their blankets, and making a few jump right up. The nun explained that breakfast would be served in one half hour, whether we were there or not. "We are servants of God, not cooks," she said before walking out of the room.  
  
"Who is she?" a blonde girl asked in German to her bedside friend, pointing to Lissette. The way in which she spoke these German words was hateful and Lissette was enraged.  
  
"I'm Lissette," she said in German with the sweetest tone she could muster, completely shocking the two German girls. Lissette smiled and added, "It's nice to meet you." She walked slowly away from the two and smiled to herself. Her father would be proud. All of the money he'd spent on foreign language training had paid off well.  
  
At noon, lunch was served, followed directly by the mail. Lissette waited eagerly for a letter, but could not think of a reason why she would receive one, especially to this address. She hoped nonetheless. She continued hoping for a long while. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months in the convent, and still, no contact. She waited every day for a letter or telegram, only to find she had nothing. As the time passed, she'd made a few friends and had a few laughs, but nothing really cheered her up, she missed Pierre terribly.  
  
Soon, autumn turned to winter, and winter to spring. April had never been a particular favorite month of Lissette's. Sure, the animals were all out of hibernation by April, and the flowers and scents were absolutely delightful, but nothing really seemed to go right during the month. It was almost like a curse, she couldn't be happy during this early spring, rainy four weeks known as April.  
  
"Lissette," Sister Marion said softly at supper, "Please come with me."  
  
Lissette excused herself from the table and followed the young nun quietly. Not a word was spoken until they'd reached the quarters of the Mother Superior at the front of the large church, where Lissette was ushered inside and seated in front of two armed guards.  
  
"Lissette, you received a telegram today," an older woman called Sister Ceilia explained slowly. Lissette's face lit up and she sat on the edge of her chair, pleading with her eyes to hear what the telegram had to say. Sister Ceilia proceeded with a heavy heart as she read the small letters on the paper.  
  
"18, April, 1945. Stop. Lissette O'Brien. Stop. Daughter of Samuel O'Brien. Stop. Sister to Pierre O'Brien. Stop," with this, the woman ensued slowly, not wanting to read the horrible note again. She started once, but could not continue, tears welling up in her eyes. Lissette looked at the female cleric, and was confused. She had her suspicions, but she couldn't quite place why the woman was so emotionally involved. "This post is to inform you that your brother Pierre has been mortally wounded in battle," she eventually choked out. The tears in her eyes were now falling down her face as she tried to keep the hurtful words from exiting her mouth. The woman wanted nothing more than to tear up the telegram, take the young girl in her arms and hold her. Having never had a family herself, she could almost feel Lissette's heart ripping apart as she heard the words. "Stop. Please accept our condolences. Stop. Signed, Captain John H. Miller, U.S. Army." The woman knew that Lissette was no longer listening, and chose not to finish the man's ranking and title.  
  
"Miss," one of the guard said gently, "These are for you." He handed a very shaken Lissette a French flag, folded in an American style which she later found was meant to be respectful, a letter, and a piece of folded, faded brown leather. She recognized the latter as her brother's wallet and allowed only a few tears to escape, not wanting to loose her disposition. She was a mature 17 now, and if she was going to live any kind of life, she would need to learn to stay strong, even in the worst of circumstances. Here was her chance.  
  
"Merci, officier," she said. She was excused and paced quickly back to her room. She threw the flag and envelope onto the bed and flopped down beside them. She still had the wallet in her hand and was examining it closely. She traced the worn hide slowly and deliberately, remembering how excited he was when she gave it to him for his birthday.  
  
She opened the envelope to find a few letters shoved inside. She was amazed to see that they were written in English, and even more amazed to see that her brother had signed and dated them. One was from a few days after he left, another was from weeks afterward, and another still! She read his stained texts and cried so hard. A few of the girls in her bunking room tried to console her, but she chose to lie in bed alone, weeping. She opened the wallet over and over again; looking at the photos their father had paid so much for over the years and only sobbed harder.  



	3. Continued

"Lissette," Sister Marion said softly, stirring the poor girl from a fretful sleep, full of hellish nightmares and gruesome scenes. She'd reread every one of Pierre's letters before falling asleep and couldn't help but dream of the terrible things he must've seen.  
  
"Yes?" Lissette asked softly, her voice laced with emotion and the horrible lethargy from a very small amount of sleep. Her face seemed to have two permanent paths; carved from the rivers of tears she had been crying, almost non-stop.   
  
"You have a caller," Sister Marion said sweetly, trying to be gentle with the poor girl, who seemed to be falling apart completely, "He's here about your parents' home."  
  
"Please," Lissette pleaded, begging to be left alone.  
  
"Lissette," the Sister said sternly enough to get her attention, "You can't stay in bed forever. I know how much you loved your brother, and I know how much he meant to you, but you must go on. It's been months since your letter arrived, and you only sulk and cry. I'm worried. Now, if you let your father's house rot right under your nose, do you think Pierre would appreciate it? You need to talk to this man." Lissette, who was shocked by the care and motherly tone the woman was using, sat up in her bed, stood, and went into the bathroom.  
  
"Tell him I'll be ten minutes," she said, closing the door behind her.  
  
----  
  
Lissette had half been expecting an old, decrepit man with bifocals sitting low on his nose, and a bald head, but was quite surprised when she found someone who seemed to be quite the contrary.  
  
"Hello," the man said, his accent strange. His voice was deep and Lissette could feel her heart fluttering.  
  
"Bonjour," she said sweetly, extending her hand. Something about this man was strange, yet familiar, almost like there was some kind of connection she didn't know about.  
  
"Miss O'Brien," he started, "Your brother and I were great friends in the war. I need to speak with you about some things, is this an okay time?"  
  
Lissette smiled thoughtfully at the mention of her brother before telling the officer that it was a fine time. She excused herself for a moment and ran back to her room.  
  
"I needed to get my key," she said plainly.   
  
"Oh," he said. Eventually, the pair formally introduced themselves, and Lissette allowed his name to roll off of her tongue a few times before she was completely comfortable.  
  
"Adrian Caparzo," she said slowly. He grinned slyly and nodded.  
  
"It's Italian," he informed.  
  
"I see."  
  
They stepped out of his government-issued automobile and Lissette felt sick as she trudged up the long path. They entered the cold, quiet house and Lissette's stomach churned.  
  
"I feel sick," she announced, grabbing the doorjamb to brace herself.  
  
"Whoa!" Adrian exclaimed, catching her as her body fell limp beneath her. He draped her legs over his strong arms and rushed her in the house, his survival instincts returning. 


	4. Continued

"Where am I?" she asked when she woke. There was no answer. Lissette sat up and realized that she was in her own bed, in her own room. Had it all been nothing but a horrible dream? She jumped up and ran into her brother's room, finding it empty. She smiled and grabbed one of his sweaters and pulled it down over her. The soft, warm wool felt like heaven around her. She bounced happily down the stairs, a smile plastered on her face.  
  
Papa?" she called. When no one answered her, she tried again, a little louder this time, "Papa!" she ran into the kitchen, looking for the father she loved so very much, but she was met with nothing but dust and grime. "Why hasn't anyone cleaned the kitchen?" she asked herself, running the tips of her fingers over the counter. The narrow paths in the dust were left behind as she went running into the grand dining hall.   
  
"Surely they've maintained this room," she said softly, pulling on the doors that shielded the dining room from the kitchen. She stared up at the large, crystal chandelier that was set high over the table. The black grand piano was cloaked in the same layer of dust that seemed to have settled all over the house. Lissette was puzzled.  
  
Realizing that this was honestly happening and not a dream, her eyes brimmed and glistened with tears. She let them fall freely and stalked out of the room, heading for the door. Before she could reach her destination, she ran into something hard and strong, falling in a heap onto the floor.  
  
"Lissette?" a tough voice asked. "Lissette? Are you okay?"  
  
"Get away from me!" she screamed, her English forgotten altogether. He didn't know much French, but the anger in her voice was enough to make Adrian take a step back. He sighed and sunk to the floor, taking her hands. She tried to wrench herself form his grip, but he held strong. As she continued to weep, he pulled her close into a tight embrace, holding her shuddering body against his own. When the girl seemed to drift off to sleep, he picked her up again and placed her on the large sofa. He wrapped a small afghan around her legs and propped her head on the arm, smiling to himself. Then he went to inspect Pierre's room.  
  
Hours later, night had completely enveloped the house, and Lissette rose to find herself alone, yet again. "I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life," she thought aloud.  
  
She looked at the floor and breathed deeply. "Better go find Adrian and see if he'll drive me back before it gets too late," she thought. She stepped carefully around the table and chairs, remembering that everything was exactly as she'd left it. Her stepmother had ordered that no one touch anything, and leave it in place, so for as long as Lissette could remember, every piece of furniture stayed stationary.  
  
"Adrian?" she asked warily, her voice trembling with sleep and tears that threatened her. She made her way upstairs before finding him. He was lying on Pierre's bed, papers scattered around the floor. She smiled slightly and thought about waking him up, but decided it would be best to let him sleep. If he was with her brother in the war, he probably hadn't slept in a decent bed in ages, and she wasn't going to take that away from him. She laid a blanket across his large frame, which he welcomed, and sat on the floor, watching him for a long while.  
  
----  
  
When Adrian awoke the next morning, he walked downstairs to find Lissette in the kitchen on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. The scene was innocent enough, but he was awestruck. Her long black hair was tied quaintly on top of her head, allowing him to get a full view of her face. The way her features were contorted in frustration made him smile as he noticed that she really was beautiful. No more so than most women, but beautiful all the same.  
  
"Mornin," he said suddenly. Lissette jumped and looked at him. She, too, was stricken with wonder as she saw this man in front of her. He was leaning against the doorframe, wearing only his white undershirt and the pants he'd had on the previous day. She looked cautiously at his arms, which were bulging with muscles, then to his sculpted chest and stomach.   
  
"Hello," she said shyly, eliciting another grin from the man in front of her. "Oh!" she jumped up and ran to the counter on the far end of the room. When she returned to him, he could see a stack of… French toast.  
  
"Oh, you're too much," he said, chuckling. He graciously accepted the plate and sat at the small table in the kitchen, which was usually used as an aid in food preparation, and contently ate his French toast, with which he had actual, real maple syrup. God, he missed home.  
  
----  
  
"Thank you again for breakfast," Adrian said when they were on their way back to the convent.   
"You're very welcome," she said sweetly. Suddenly, Adrian stopped the car. Lissette looked at him, puzzled.  
  
"I want to see you again," he stated simply. Lissette could feel her face turn a few shades of pink and turned her head toward the window. She smiled and eventually turned her head back to Adrian's attention.  
  
"I'd like that. A lot," she said, her poor English skills unnoticeable.  
  
"Good, I would, too," he replied, grinning again. With that, he turned back to the road and started the car. Lissette looked at him for a moment, and now she was seeing him in a completely new light. Before this moment, she'd just thought of him as her brother's friend, but now he was a real person. 


	5. Continued

It had been weeks since Adrian's request, but he was nowhere to be found and Lissette had all but given up hope for his return. Even though her heart was breaking, she rose and pressed on. She'd enrolled in a few classes at the nearest school and was now reading non-stop. She rarely slept, opting to spend time with Shakespeare, Poe, and Dickens, three of her favorite men.  
  
Again, Sister Marion interrupted her daydreaming by announcing lunch. Lissette reluctantly sauntered into the poorly lit refectory, wishing to return to her books all the while. She walked into the room, her feet shuffling. Lissette sat in her designated seat, never noticing that she was unaccompanied. The sun had come up only half an hour before, but she never put it together. Then she heard it.  
  
"Lissette," someone said, so softly she could've sworn it was the wind. The voice repeated her name, this time a little louder. She could feel the tiny hairs on her neck stand as the sound of her name sent shivers through her entire being.  
  
"Adrian?" she asked, her voice a barely audible murmur. Her confirmation came with the feeling of a heavy hand on her shoulder, then the touch she'd longed for since their meeting. A rough hand traveled slowly from her shoulder to her cheek, caressing her soft skin lightly. The small hairs were still alert and it took most of her strength to keep from attacking him. Rather, she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes as she parted her lips to take a delicate breath. She placed her hand on top of his, and then stood to face him.  
  
"Where have you been?" she asked, barely believing that he was standing before her. She ran her hands up and down his arms, eliciting an excited shiver. He took a small step back, taking in the sight of the young girl before him who had grown so old in such a short time. He felt empathy, sadness, desire and adoration for the woman. She searched his eyes for an answer, losing herself in the dark brown depths, which seemed to lead to his very soul.  
  
"Nessun domande," he said softly. Lissette had never heard spoken Italian, but suspected that he was speaking in his native tongue, considering how thick his accent seemed all of the sudden. "No questions," he repeated, leaning down to her. His large hand held her face firmly, but with a gentle touch, unmistakably reserved for those who mattered most.  
  
As Adrian pressed his lips gently to hers, she felt as if she could fly. None of the boys she'd kissed before had ever made her feel this way before, but Adrian was different; He was a man. Lissette's hands stayed at her sides through the tender ordeal as she resisted the temptation to make things a little more intense. Remembering that they were in a holy place, Adrian gradually pried their lips apart, savoring every moment of the sweet kiss.  
  
"You haven't left my mind," he thought, grasping her hand, silently urging her to go with him. She started to speak, but was quieted by a long, brown finger on her pink lips. He smiled and guided her outside, stopping only to open the door of his car.  
  
----  
  
"Adrian," she said, her voice quavering as tears threatened to splash from her eyes, "Where were you?"  
  
"Don't worry, Lissette," he told her softly, stroking her cheek gently, "It's over now, I won't leave again."  
  
"Do you swear?" she asked, suddenly feeling like a small girl.  
  
"On everything I am." 


	6. Continued

Lissette's body quivered, every particle of her being aching with anticipation. She'd longed for his touch for so, so long, but now, she was a little unsure. How could she know that someone so thoroughly seeded with hatred, would be gentle and kind? He was a killing machine, not a lover. She wasn't too sure what she was getting herself into, as they lay sprawled out on the soft, warm grass in the back of her home. She briefly recalled the night Pierre left, but forced the thought from her mind, focusing only on Adrian and the immense pleasure he was bringing her, even though they were not touching at all.  
  
"I wouldn't dream of hurting you," Adrian tenderly whispered against her cheek, planting a light kiss. He sensed her apprehension, but he knew that he would give his life in order to ensure her an extra moment of happiness, even if she didn't have the slightest inkling. His love for Lissette grew from a commitment he'd made to her darling Pierre only weeks ago: To protect the young woman and make sure she was happy for the rest of her life.  
  
"I know," she said sheepishly, trying to decide whether to take control of the situation or shy away. She chose the latter and retracted slightly, now lying on her side, facing away from him. A single tear menacingly adhered to her eye, causing her to take conscious effort to keep it from falling. His strong arm lay on her side, holding the two together. She was like an impetus for Adrian's survival.  
  
"Lissette," he said softly, kissing her shoulder, "I'd never let anything harm you." She nodded and let a smile creep onto her face as his hand left her waist and moved to her stomach. His fingers toyed with the fabric of her dress, the soft cotton felt so relaxing against his tired, tight skin. He touched her hip, then moved his hand down, feeling all over her body. She smiled and moved to lie on her back to accommodate his wandering.  
  
"Mmm…" she moaned softly when his hand trailed lightly from her abdomen to her neck in one long movement. The tickle of his skin so close to hers was driving her mad. She grabbed his hand and kissed each finger softly, daring him to bring his mouth to hers. Luckily, he took the cue and soon, Adrian picked her up.  
  
"Let's take this inside," he whispered throatily. She smiled and nodded in concession. They reached the back door and went immediately up to her bedroom. The feather-soft bed provided the perfect stage.  
  
As Adrian rid himself of his shirt and pants, Lissette unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor, the soft cotton making only whispering noises as it hit. Adrian looked at her and smiled, realizing that he was correct, she was beautiful. Her body was average, her looks were average, even her personality was average, but there was just something about her that seemed to make a feeling of beauty radiate from her body.   
  
She sat on the bed and waited for him to quit ogling her. He smiled and walked slowly over, sitting next to her as if to say, "We're in this together."  
  
Her small hand found his face and pulled him down to her so that she could kiss him softly. She could feel a smile on his lips as they locked down on her own, and she wrapped her other arm around his neck, pulling him closer still. His arms held her waist tight, massaging her back with his large, rough hands. She moved to sit on his lap, wanting to be as close as possible, and sat facing him, still kissing his mouth hungrily. It had been a long while since she'd be intimate with anyone, but she was positive that this was it.  
  
"Are you sure you wanna do this?" she asked shakily as his hand traced her face, her neck, her shoulders, her chest. What could he say? Of course he did, it was all he'd thought about since their initial meeting. He'd forced the thoughts to the very back of his mind, but every night, there she was. He could feel her soft body on top of his own, writhing and twisting; Her lips on his body, making him wild with desire.  
  
He said nothing, choosing to just get right to the point. He brushed her hair behind her ear and softly touched her cheek before wrapping her in his arms and lying her down. He admired her for a moment before planting a solid kiss on her waiting lips. As he bent down to kiss her, he allowed a hand to trail from the side of her face to her shoulder; From her shoulder to her chest; From her chest to her stomach; Then finally, from her chest to her thighs.  
  
"I won't do anything you don't want me to," he told her softly when he felt her body tighten. She smiled and nodded, urging him to continue. He moved his hand around, looking for just the right spot.  
  
They continued kissing for a long while as Adrian's hands clumsily traveled around her person, making her tremble nonetheless. He positioned himself so that he was lying between her legs and continued to wander round her body, a seemingly foreign territory. She ran her hands lustfully over his scalp, then down to his shoulders. Her hands flew behind her to grasp the bedpost as she felt a very strange feeling. Without pause, Adrian's body began to slowly move over hers, their extreme lower regions burning with a sensation that neither had experienced in a long, long while.  
  
Lissette hissed and moaned with every push, and Adrian's reactions were similar. He groaned her name as he kissed and licked her soft skin while enjoying the feeling of being so deep inside of her. She relished the sensation she felt deep inside of her body as she reached her climax. Impressed by Adrian's staying power, she allowed him to continue the heavenly motion and never quit bring her hips up to meet his every thrust.  
  
She let out a banshee-like scream as the culmination of his excitement was met. She could feel his touch soften as he still lay on top of her. Before, he'd been filled with lust and desire, but now, he seemed to have made a 180-degree rotation. His eyes sparkled with a new light, and he was sure he wasn't the same person, and it scared him. He'd been trained to kill, not love.   
  
Lissette, however, was taking pleasure in the new tenderness the man was displaying. Still only a child, she was not used to harshness and had been sheltered from the rough ways of the world for the entirety of her life, so she welcomed the change. No matter how insignificant it seemed to Adrian, to Lissette, the softness with which he said her name and looked into her eyes made a world of difference. 


End file.
